


the sligthly chipped full moon

by bloopee



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, I don't think, M/M, it is all over the place, it's not that angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-10
Updated: 2017-02-10
Packaged: 2018-09-23 08:35:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9648269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloopee/pseuds/bloopee
Summary: when yifan and junmyeon meet again





	

It's Junmyeon's own fault for thinking that he wouldn't get lost in a large Chinese broadcasting station building. He admits he was being childish when he refused Yixing's help, since he was the only one aquainted with the place. But his hands are not wet anymore, his bladder isn't full and his members are nowhere in sight, and now he has to use the little Chinese he knows to ask passing by people where the room 188 is located.

 

He walks through about four corridors that all look exactly the same, two halls, and probably sees a few celiebrities he doesn't know, but he really needs to hurry because his members are all probably waiting for him by now.

 

Asking a couple of people, both in Chinese and in even more limited English, he gets where he has to go, mostly, and he puts on a skillfully warm smile before taking a deep breath and pushing open a door.

 

What sets him off, a little at first, and then so much he suddenly forgets how to breathe, and his eyes go wide, but hardly see a thing as if they were hidden behind a white curtain, is a pair of familiar, soft and concentrated dark eyes he sees through a clean glass wall.

 

Lips turned into a lazy smile as the man speaks into a microphone, looks up and meets Jumyeon's familiar gaze, and his words fall and crumble like pillars made of salt.

 

Junmyeon realizes he's in the wrong room just then, does a 90 degree bow to the people that turn to look at him with puzzled looks, and with a smile so fake it could rival a stickman's, he shuffles back out through the door and does everything not to run through the long corridor, because that would be way unmanarly, and settles on speed walking Usain Bolt would compliment.

 

He walks, fast, his breath raged and his eyes not finding a thing to focus on. He finds a bathroom, a different one than he was in before. It's empty and it smells like cleaning supplies, and the smell is almost comforing, so he sets himself before the large mirror and tries to calm himself down, because this isn't normal. None of this is okay, though it shouldn't be that way, and Junmyeon wants to pass out because he hears fast, unnerving footsteps echo against the stone flooring of the corridor.

 

And his reaction is way off, way dramatic and uncalled for, but he can't control it because not all things in the world are okay, and this isn't supposed to be happening in the first place, not now, not when Junmyeon is unprepared, and weak, and all over the place.

 

Yifan, at the same moment, wonders if he can convey all he wants, and doesn't have to, in the lenght of one song blasting through the radios. Two, if the show's host is feeling generous and Yifan was charming enough to not ask for such a favor but get one anyway. And he pushes open the bathroom door to find Junmyeon there, looking like a deer caught in the headlights. The same pair of eyes meets him in a mirror and he almost wants to cry, because it looks like those eyes are about ready to spill tears and Yifan doesn't want to be responsible for an idol's makeup getting smudged.

 

And Junmyeon never looked pretty crying anyway, not when he would recieve awards, not when he would be depressed, not when it would be because of Yifan. Junmyeon was made to be happy and Yifan feels like he's broken this precious thing he shouldn't have had the privilage of setting his eyes once on from the very begining.

 

"Junmyeon." Is all that escapes past his lips, thoughts gone along with probably half the song he's forced the DJ to play on a tens of thousands of people's radios in China right now. The man named Junmyeon flinches, eyes falling from the mirror to the porcelain sink like it would answer for him. It keeps quiet, just like Junmyeon does, and Yifan forgets to feel guilty, because this person was once almost his.

 

Yifan hisses, feels his throat tremor, and walks to take a paper towel from the dispencer, priding himself of being smart enough to always keep a pen on himself.

 

He scribbles numbers frantically and statically, moves lagging, folds the paper and, arguing with himself in his head, takes Junmyeon's soft hand, so familiar and so willing, and places the object in it, quickly closing his fingers around it and keeping his hand on Junmyeon's for a second longer than he wants to.

 

"Junmyeon, please call me," He says and he wants to run out because the song is probably over and his career isn't over but it might as well be, because he's an awful human being and Junmyeon looks _not right,_ and Yifan wants that expression gone.

 

"Call you? Why?" Is what Junmyeon says, not as harsh as he can, and Yifan wants to turn Junmyeon's eyes by force to look at him because he _can't_ anymore, and Junmyeon hasn't looked up once yet.

 

"Yes, call me." Yifan nods and Junmyeon still refuses to look at him, though his fingers tighten around the fold in his hand and Yifan thinks that's a good sign. 

 

"I shouldn't. I can't."

 

"Junmyeon, look at me," Yifan says, voice desperate, and Junmyeon does, not looking as broken as just a minute ago. He meets Yifan's desperate gaze, and Yifan wants to sigh in relief, but he can't afford to let any of his breath escape because he's already lacking. "Good." He decides and he's not sure what counts as good, but it's good. "How long are you staying?"

 

"Three days." Junmyeon answers without any delay, voice so _Junmyeon_ , and it almost feels like he's hypnotized with how quick he lets himself speak.

 

"Call me," Yifan says one last time and runs out of the room, leaving Junmyeon alone.

 

Junmyeon finds his way to the room 288 (188 was wrong), apologizes to everyone at least twice and pretends to not feel the paper shifting in his pocket too painfully, too distractingly, and they film, senses dull and eyes all over the place.

 

Yifan gives a bow to every staff member working in his room, reserves three bows for the show host, who had to interview him, and promises to make it up to them one way or the other, and he's forgiven, heart shaking.

 

Neither one of the two know if they should smile or cry, so they don't do either one, but the moment they're left alone the bubble bursts.

 

 

 

And it's not like Yifan's, or _Kris's_ departure from EXO was a topic that just dropped out of the sky on a clear day. It was talked over countless of times, talked over with everyone, and talked over with Junmyeon personally until he could speak of the topic without crying. There was nothing to disclose, nothing else to talk over and nothing new, but it just wasn't sitting right with him.

 

Not with Yifan, not with Junmyeon. Something was lacking. A farewell, a greeting, another _talk_ , another million of talks, anything and everything, it was all the same, all mixed and jumbled and a mess, that was never cleaned up, simply because there was nowhere to begin.

 

 

 

It's 9PM when Yifan recieves a message from an unknown number with the adress of a hotel he's stayed in before, and he wastes no time getting a taxi and going there, too afraid fans might recognize his own car. 

 

The fans camping out the hotel probably think he's Chanyeol as he exists the car with sunglasses, a face mask, a cap and a large coat and nobody bothers him, thankfully, because this, _this_ would be an international scandal.

 

Only when he's in the lift, the quiet music playing in the background, does he think about what's happening and what exactly he's doing. And what he's doing isn't okay, it's not anywhere remotely close to fine, but the thought he's ignored of 'not caring' surfaces up and he chooses that to use as an excuse.

 

He doesn't care. He doesn't care. He just doesn't _care_. If he repeats it enough he will believe it, he's sure. It's a trick he's learned from Junmyeon, probably picked up from leading so many boys without a clear future, without a clear anything, something Yifan couldn't even dream of doing. To lie to yourself until it became the truth. It almost never fails. 

 

He thinks the idea over again for the thousandth time, standing in front of the wooden door which should be to Junmyeon's room, and his mind completely stops when the door is open and Junmyeon is there. The clock on his phone hits 10PM, and he smiles weakly, completely needlessly, and Junmyeon tries to smile back, but fails, and steps away from the door.

 

Maybe if he stays out in the hall for a little longer an EXO memebr will exit their room and Yifan will have the pleasure of ruining even more great things.

 

"Thank you," Yifan says as Junmyeon locks the door behind him and Yifan wants to hug him, wrap his arms around Junmyeon and smell his hair, and feel Junmyeon's soft sweater under his fingertips, but he doesn't, because he feels like a stranger. "Thank you, seriously. For meeting me."

 

And Junmyeon's face looks as if makeup has never touched it, hair free of gel and his face free of the mask he's put up for the public, leaving just a tiny trace of it he couldn't disperse even if he tried. It's good, because Yifan is only Yifan too, now, without Kris to hide behind, and this is as real and face to face as they will ever get with one another.

 

"Do you want a drink?" Junmyeon asks, because it's easier than saying 'of course', voice calm and velvety, and Yifan feels the pressure under every syllable and he admires how Junmyeon can keep his voice from cracking.

 

"I, uh, yeah." Yifan nods, dumbly, and Junmyeon passes him and walks further into the room, Yifan ungracefully following behind, taking off his coat and hanging it besides Junmyeon's on his way.

 

Junmyeon pours wine from the open bottle sitting on the glass table into a clear wineglass and hands it to Yifan, standing there, patient. 

 

All of this feels weird, but Yifan doesn't see how it wouldn't, so he just nods and finishes the little amount of it in a few gulps, rushing everything because so many things have to happen tonight, and he places the glass onto the matching table, standing in front of a waiting Junmyeon.

 

And his hands don't have time to feel empty because Junmyeon is there, body warm against Yifan, arms around his neck, cheeks brushing. It doesn't take Yifan long to wrap his arms around Junmyeon's waist, like he would so often do. They go from a habit more than anything, and Yifan's not sure if he's allowed to feel any of this.

 

"I miss you so much, Yifan. I've missed you so, so fucking much." Junmyeon speaks, his voice warm and cold, and there, and not and cracked all over, and Yifan does nothing but embrace tighter.

 

"I've missed you too, you can't imagine." He breathes into Junmyeon's ear and if his eyes weren't watering before, they are now, and Yifan feels this, somehow, so he forces himself to pull away and look at Junmyeon's bare face, familiar and not, and he looks, though Junmyeon doesn't, eyes casted to Yifan's chest.

 

No tears are falling, so Yifan allows himself to cup Junmyeon's jaw and lift his face up, to kiss his cheek, his jaw, his forehead, anywhere and everywhere where he can ignore his lips, and Junmyeon doesn't seem to mind the brush of Yifan's lenghty, healthy black hair against his face, not anymore than he minds his lips.

 

After a little while they sit down in front of each other, the glass table seperating them and being the only obstacle between them, and Junmyeon generously pours in more wine.

 

They hardly talk about the past, it's a sensitive subject, so instead they talk about the present. About how Sehun has walked in on Baekhyun showering and they almost had sex and how, once, Jongin slapped Chanyeol so hard he chipped his tooth. About how Jongin and Kyungsoo finally gathered the courage to talk about their feelings and how Jongdae had run through a hotel corridor naked on a dare.

 

Yifan doesn't have much to say, but he doesn't want to talk either way, so he just listens to Junmyeon talk about Yifan's past friends that are just seperated from him by thin walls, and sometimes laughs, happy that things are going the way they're going, without him, or Lu Han, or Zitao. 

 

Content, but not really, with how things turned out. He doesn't know how he should feel, but his chest still unwillingly swells with pride when he remembers Junmyeon's speech when EXO had received a Daesang, when he's seen the promotions of shows Kyungsoo's acted in and when he hears an EXO song on the radio.

 

How much everyone's grown, changed and moved on, and Yifan's happy about it all. Not happy with himself nor his actions, but happy with everyone's ability to cope with it, or don't, because Yifan hasn't had all that much influence on anyone's lives when he thinks longer about the matter.

 

It's not a bad feeling for an outsider.

 

"You know, when you left... I don't want to say it had a big blow on me, because it's something that's passed, but it really had affected me," Junmyeon says, serious, and Yifan doesn't know how to react because he doesn't know what Junmyeon wants from him. An apology? An explanation? He's heard plenty of those. "I mean, I know why you left, I understand-- understood in the past, too, that what you got wasn't what you wanted, or worked for. I guess acting hurt was just easier for me."

 

"Do you want me to apologize?" Yifan asks because he needs to know what Junmyeon expects of him, because Junmyeon wasn't always easy to read, and because Yifan doesn't want to disappoint the only important person in the universe right this moment. Because Junmyeon deserves so much more than what Yifan could offer, but doesn't even try.

 

"No, I just want you to know that that was me being selfish and that I should be the one apologizing." Junmyeon says, eyes sorry and almost pitying and Yifan looks at him with tired disbelief. 

 

"But you really shouldn't be sorry about anything." Yifan says, voice just a little louder than before. "It was all me." He talks, glass in hand about ready to shatter because he doesn't like Junmyeon's train of thought one bit and he's the only person ever to make Yifan lose himself so much.

 

"No." Junmyeon cuts off. "No. I was acting hurt and dumb and shit because I didn't know what else could I do beside acting like the victim. It was me being selfish and hoping, praying for you to stay. For you to stay forever." He talks and Yifan wants him to stop because he doesn't want to hear any of this. "And I wanted to be even more greedy. For once in my life I wanted everything to myself, to be completely selfish and to ignore your needs, because,"

 

He stops then, breathes for a couple of seconds, gets out of the situation for a moment to go to a quiet place in his mind. Yifan waits, though he's not sure he wants to hear the words Junmyeon will choose to finish it all with.

 

"Because I just wanted you and needed you so much. All for myself."

 

And he was right to be afraid of Junmyeon's words coming so carelessly, but at the same time all thought out, straight out of his pretty mouth and into Yifan. Straight into Yifan's everything.

 

"Junmyeon, enough." Yifan says, voice loud and agitated, and he hadn't meant it as harsh as it had come out and Junmyeon knows this, so he just takes a deep breath and nods, finished his ramble Yifan missed a few words of anyway with how quick he was talking. He guesses it doesn't make a difference either way. "It's okay to be selfish, it's okay - what you did, everything you did, or didn't do, everything's fine. I never once blamed you, I never blamed anyone," He says. "There was no one to blame, everyone just reacted differently."

 

"Everyone reacted differently." Junmyeon repeats. "Everything's fine." And Yifan nods, finding his own words to be true and hoping Junmyeon sees it that way as well. Junmyeon takes a sip of his wine, looks at Yifan with a mischievious glint in his eyes and a challenging smirk on his face. "That's a bunch of bullshit."

 

And with the way he says this Yifan wants to fling himself into it all and agree with Junmyeon endlessly, because maybe a forever was on his mind once too.

 

 

 

When Junmyeon leaves for the bathroom, Yifan walks through the empty room Junmyeon doesn't have to share (one of the privilages of being the leader), and walks into the small balcony, carefully sitting down against the wall so people couldn't see him from down below, though the room was pretty high up anyway. A former idol can't be too careful.

 

He takes out the pack of cigarettes he knew he'd need today and a lighter a fan gifted him for some reason, and he lights a cigarette almost regretfully.

 

The inhale he takes of the poisonous smoke is far from satisfying, but at least it's something completely familiar, though not as welcoming as Junmyeon's voice, or his messy black hair, or dark eyes, or pale skin, or the stories of his group fucking around, but it's still enough, Yifan tells himself. He can't really afford to hope for more.

 

He releases the puff of smoke from his lungs and it becomes warm again. Everything does, even the lit window besides the balcony with curtains drawn - the room of a couple other members is probably hidden behind it.

 

"So, you smoke now?" Junmyeon opens the door and shivers at the cold wind, closing it and setting himself down besides Yifan, burning shoulders touching.

 

"I smoke when I'm nervous." Yifan aswers with fake coolness Junmyeon recognizes and chuckles at, and Yifan takes another long drag from the cigarette inbetween his fingers.

 

"Are you nervous right now?" Junmyeon asks, his knees drawn to his chest, arms wrapped around and eyes just peaking from above them, the words finding place to escape in a puff of white air.

 

"Fuck." Yifan curses, eyes tired. "I don't remember the last time I've been this way." He answers honestly. He finds Junmyeon's gaze heavy on his body, so he doesn't turn to catch it and just lets it weigh on him.

 

"That's not good for your skin. Calm down," Junmyeon says with a raspy voice from all the singing and talking, though he's guilty of the same thing. The smile he has is teasing, weightless. Carefree, trying to make this whole situation seem less than it is.

 

Yifan shoots him a look like he knows that Junmyeon is full of shit but neither one of them bring themselves to call it out because they're both cowards.

 

"I should, shouldn't I?" Yifan still asnwers, looking at the cigarette before himself like it were the culprit of making him feel like this.

 

Whatever _this_ is.

 

"You know, Yifan," Junmyeon starts with a nice voice, about enough to warm Yifan's cold body and make his mind over-heat. "I don't love you anymore."

 

And Yifan wants to smile, a little smile which he wouldn't want the world to notice, just for him to know, but he doesn't. He just answers.

 

"I know," He says, voice stale and soft and everything in between all the good and the bad. "I don't love you anymore either." 

 

And his smile which the whole world knows about shows just how regretful he can be. Junmyeon chooses to ignore it, smiling with hidden understandment himself.

 

And it almost feels like a promise.

 

"Mhm." Junmyeon hums, taking the cigarette, or the little of it left, taking one last drag and holding the smoke in, putting out the bud in the ashtray and leaving it there, slowly releasing the smoke with a small caugh which Yifan marks with a snort and a smile, eyes following Junmyeon's movement like it meant something. Like it were a piece of choreography he had to remember. Something which he would never forget.

 

"Come here." Yifan crooks his finger and the only place Junmyeon finds to be closer to Yifan than the spot in which he already is, curled into his side, is Yifan's lap, so he shrugs without actually shrugging and goes to straddle his thighs, not finding the need to think about things.

 

Though things should really be thought over, that's how responsible adults do, but Junmyeon is a littly giddy from the few bottles of wine he and Yifan have shared, and everything's just alright.

 

Yifan looks at Junmyeon, eyes glassy, and Junmyeon copies the action, and they just sit there like this, in silence, not looking like they're doing much of anything.

 

But Yifan is trying to carve every little thing in and on Junmyeon's face into his memory, and Junmyeon doesn't pretend for a second like he isn't doing the same.

 

When Yifan decides he's done, when he starts regretting what he just did, and when a trail of loud police cars passes by and the air turns quiet again, he shifts forward to catch those lips of Junmyeon he's been staring at for the past two minutes and feels shamelessly estatic when they welcome him.

 

The kiss is soft and smooth, not their first and secretely wished to not be the last. It tastes of wine and cigarettes, a disgusting mix Yifan and Junmyeon will probably not forget any time soon, or just any time, as much as they hate the idea of it.

 

Junmyeon finds he's lost his fingers in Yifan's smooth hair and loses the ability to imagine, to think and to feel, and Yifan loses everything that he's just gotten back, only to get it back again, only to lose it again. His fingers against Junmyeon's neck and shoulder desperetly try to grasp at it, whatever it is, only to leave the faintest of bruises which will be gone by the next morning.

 

Whatever it is they try to grasp will hopefully be gone as soon as it appears again, too.

 

They still kiss after taking breaks of a few seconds in between, lips trying to frantically carve their memories into lips as if they were tattoos.

 

They still kiss, trying to make themselves known, and present, and _there_ , when Yifan lifts Junmyeon up by his thighs and brings him into the room, kicking the door shut behind himself.

 

They still kiss, etching, inbeading their new memories and remembering the past ones, when Yifan sets Junmyeon down onto his large made bed and they both lay down, bodies flushed against one another, moves calm and smooth, predictable and so, so familiar.

 

When they lay there and they don't kiss anymore, when time catches up with them and the stars never even begin to shine, the light pollution at fault, arms around bodies, purposeful and stubborn, fingers tangled in clothes, dark hair mixed and smells all the same, they sleep, or pretend to, only to forget to keep their eyes secretely open and still fall with warm, mixed breaths, all the same.

 

Junmyeon wakes up alone, and he can't say he hasn't expected to. He's not disappointed, not sad. A little cold, the blanket over his body draped, useless. He's just there, in an empty room, table clear of empty bottles and glasses. Clear of conversation and presence. Clear of anything Junmyeon recognizes and knows.

 

He nods to himself when he doesn't find the tissue with Yifan's number on it - he's thrown it out last night after typing it into his phone. His phone. He takes it and smiles, almost bitterly, when he doesn't find the number anywhere in his contacts, the EXO homescreen photo staring back at him mockingly, judging him with looks of laughter for thinking that things might be different. 

 

Though he didn't think, not for a second, that things could be any different than they are now. He didn't think at all.

 

And if he was thinking, now forgotten, it was only a single thought running around in his head, probably telling him to forget about it. To forget everything and to not pay mind.

 

He doesn't notice that he starts crying when he finds a picture in his photo album of his sleeping face with a little message written on it from the Snapchat app he always forgets he has. He doesn't notice that he's crying, maybe because he isn't. But he definetly is, he thinks, there's no way he can't be crying, because being insensitive never worked for Junmyeon when he's wanted it to. 

 

"That asshole," He breathes with a sting in his throat and in his eyes, and in his everything, when he reads the message again, and again, and again, until there's a knock on his door which makes his head snap up, and he goes to open it without a blur in his eyes.

 

He lets Minseok in with a friendly greeting, and tells him to wait for a bit until he showers, so they could go get breakfast together.

 

When he's back, hair wet, to look for the hairdryer, Yixing's joined Minseok with tired eyes, and Minseok's masterfully acting like he didn't see the photo on Junmyeon's carelessly left phone, taken by someone, and he'll pretend he can't read before he'll ever admit he's ever seen the _I promise that I'll miss you_ typed in on it.

 

Junmyeon likes to think that he deletes the photo later, though he definitely doesn't.

**Author's Note:**

> i really liked the idea of them meeting after yifan's departure from exo, but i just can't write anything except for crack at this point. i'm so sorry


End file.
